Sherlock's Collection Of Fairy Tales
by Dante Pierre
Summary: John gets sick and Sherlock ends up telling him his own twisted versions of classic fairy tales.
1. I'b sick

**A/N: Heyy! We've finally got another Sherlock story out! Hope you enjoy, we own nothing by the way. We love reviews, heck we practically throw a party every time we get a review. Sooooooo yah. Also, we're planning on setting up an update time, so if you prefer a certain day of the week for us to update, please tell us in a review. Thanks!**

**-Dante Pierre**

* * *

They had just finished their fourth case and it wasn't even teatime yet. John sniveled. His nose had been running and his throat had been scratchy ever since Sherlock had dragged him out of his warm bed at four in the morning. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, but it so happened that John had had a date that kept him up until three in the morning. The lack of sleep plus the fact that is was early spring left John with a nasty cold.

"Sherlock. I'b sick." John announced.

"Obviously." Sherlock answered.

"I'b goig hobe."

"That would be the smartest thing to do."

"You're cobig too."

"No."

"Fine. I'b staying here."

* * *

Thirty-two minutes later, Sherlock was half-carrying John up the stairs to their flat.

"You're a bloody doctor! You should know better!" Sherlock angrily muttered.

"Stubborn." John replied with a small smile that disappeared with a small sneeze. Sherlock smirked, John was actually quite adorable when he was sick. Sherlock finally managed to get all of John's limbs in his bed after quite a frightful struggle. John was weak as a kitten and gravity was a pain in the arse. John watched Sherlock walk out and closed his eyes, trying to sleep. It didn't work. Seven minutes later John gave up.

"Sherlock!" He called out the best he could, which wasn't very loud. John had just accepted that his flatmate had left him alone in his time of need, when the Holmes in question appeared in the doorway.

"Sherlock, I can't sleep. I'b not tired."

"Not my problem." Sherlock said as he turned to leave.

"Wait. Can you tell me a story?" Sherlock looked at him.

"A story. I'm assuming that would help."

"Yes."

"Fine. A story." And so it began.


	2. Red The Serial Killer

**A/N: We know it's a wee bit early to upload the next chapter already, but since the first one was short and had no fairytale in it, we decided to add the next earlier then planned. As always, we own nothing. Please tell us what day of the week we should regularly update/upload on in the reviews. Hope you enjoy the story!**

**-Dante Pierre**

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Red. She lived with her mum, Rose, in a sweet little cottage on the edge of the forest, right next to the river. Red had a grandmother, Cynthia, who lived in the forest, not too far from Red and her mum.

Red had always been an odd child. She would sit outside their house for hours on end, not moving an inch. When her mum asked her why, Red would reply she was waiting for father to come back. Rose would get a far off look for a moment or two before giving her daughter a sad smile and telling her that father wouldn't come back. Not ever. It was the same routine, every day. Red was a kind-soul, helping anything in need and giving everything a chance, but she was so...changeable. Some would say she took after her father in that manner. Red had never hurt anyone in her life, but things were soon to change.

It happened on a beautiful summer's day. Rose had given Red a basket with a freshly baked cake in it and had sent her off with instructions to visit her grandmother. Red promised her mum she would stay on the path and stay safe before setting off to Cynthia's house. She knew little of the horror that lay ahead.

Cynthia had always been a forgetful woman. Rumours said she had even forgotten her own name once, but her forgetfulness had never caused her trouble in life. That too was about to change. You see, it so happened that the same day Red was to visit her grandmother, Cynthia had left the door open in her house. Wide open. A pack of starving, desperate wolves had smelled the fresh game Cynthia had been skinning at the time and had made a bold move. Red arrived just in time to witness her grandmother whom she loved dearly be ripped to shreds by the vicious wolves. Instead of screaming and running back home immediately, something had clicked, or rather snapped, in Red's mind. She set down the basket, but took out the knife her mum had packed just incase. After all the forest was a dangerous place, where dreadful things happened. Eerily quiet, Red walked back to the cottage. Silently, she walked up to her mum, picked up the rolling pin that hadn't yet been put away and hit her mum on the back of the head with it. Hard. Rose collapsed and Red got to work.

Half an hour later Red was finished. Her mum was laying on the floor so peacefully that one would think she was sleeping, at least until they noticed that she was very much dead. Her eyes had been neatly removed and put in a jar as keepsakes, and her throat had been slit with the precision of a surgeon. A bloody hand print adorned Rose's chest, right above her heart. After admiring her masterpiece, Red left the cottage in search of another victim.

It didn't take long for her to find the village of Kingsley. It was a quaint town with a population of about one hundred. Red killed and created ten more works of art before she was caught. They held her in the blacksmith's storage room while they decided her fate. A few of the people saw her as a child, an innocent tainted by great evil that could be removed with care and kindness. Everyone else was all for hanging her as they witch they thought her to be, child or not. Two days later Red joined all her other victims, six feet under.

* * *

"The end."

"Sherlock. I'b even bore awake."

"You didn't like the story."

"It scared me. Tell me another."

"Fine. Once upon a time..."


	3. The Three Little Dealers

**And here's the next chapter. Don't really know how long we plan to make this one, but it will be at the very very very very very least three or so more chapters. Once again, that would be the very very very very very least.**

**We don't own any of it! Damn!**

**Please review and fav/follow. Thx**

**-Dante Pierre**

* * *

Once upon a time, there were three brothers; Al, James and Nick, the eldest. Their mother, Teresa, had always hoped her boys would turn out well; make a living for themselves and settle down with a nice family and a quiet life. Apparently, she was either shit at raising kids, or didn't express her wishes to them often enough, and soon after they moved out into the world, Al, James and Nick all became relatively successful drug dealers.

Nick was probably the worst. His calm demeanor and silver tongue lulled you into a sense of security while he robbed you blind, murdered you and put the blame on your next-door neighbor. All the while, you would still trust him, because after all, Nick was always right and Nick never made a mistake.

Al, on the other hand, was more of a blunt man. He would threaten to rip you limb from limb and then feed you to your own mother on Christmas Eve. As you can imagine, those poor souls that made the mistake of not taking his threats seriously didn't have an open casket.

The least successful of the brothers, James, was an honest man, if that was possible. He never crossed anyone and always held up his end of the bargain. He was also very naive and trusting, which unfortunately lead him to being taken advantage of, so to speak. As you can imagine, James was the first to have run-ins with the police.

James had just wrapped up a deal he had thought to be the most successful of his entire career. Little did he know, the man he had dealt with went straight to the police, the drugs as evidence that James was indeed a dealer. Not an hour later James was on the run. He had barely escaped the cops, losing them in a busy street and was on his way to his brother, Al's place. Al reluctantly agreed to help out his brother, and the two started business together.

About two months later, when business was booming, they slipped up. They had gotten lazy and weren't checking their potential customers out as thoroughly as they should have. As a result, an undercover cop slipped their nets and got deep into the system. By the time they had realized what had happened, it was too late, the cop had learned everything last detail about their trade. So James was on the run again, but this time he was accompanied with his younger brother Al. They went to their eldest sibling, Nick.

Nick saw a chance to get rid of his incompetent brothers. They were an embarrassment to him and he couldn't stand sharing their surname. Unfortunately, he couldn't out right murder them without solid proof of their sheer dumbness. That would be crossing the line. He had to wait for them to make a mistake under his watch. Then he could have them killed.

He didn't have to wait long. Two weeks after he took his brothers in, he sent them off to deal with a troublesome client who refused to pay for the shipments he had received. Al and James slipped up. The client got away and was never heard from again. Nick had lost a good chunk of profits on him and he was pissed. On the bright side, he now had reason to kill his brothers. He had them tied up and shot in the night like the dogs they were. Nick went on to being the most renowned drug dealer in the world now that his brothers were not around to sully his reputation.

* * *

"Do you eben know the real story."

"What real story?"

"The three liddle pigs."

"Obviously."

"Uh huh."


	4. Wendy And The Kidnapper

**We still own nothing. Ah well.**

**Also, we'd just like to say that we will be doing a Hansel and Gretel story soon, as per request, so hang in there!**

**Does anyone think we should write a crossover?**

**Anyways, here's chapter...three? No, oops. Four. Yes, that's it. HOPE YOU ENJOY!**

**Please review. Seriously. COME ON PEOPLE! We're saying please! :D**

**-Dante Pierre**

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a happy little family in London, England. There was Mr. And Mrs. Darling and their lovable daughter Wendy Darling. The Darling's had always been fortunate, things always worked out in their favour, but most of all Mr. And Mrs. Darling always believed themselves extremely lucky to be blessed with a child like Wendy. She was kind, but somewhat naive. She helped anyone and everyone in need and was always willing to give others a second chance. Everyone loved Wendy; even those who claimed to despise her secretly admired her. So you can imagine it was quite a shock to many people when Wendy became the forty-second victim of the notorious kidnapper, Peter Pan.

Peter Pan, whose real name nobody knows, was quite the opposite of Wendy. He was a clever, yet cruel man with no heart. He never helped anyone, and only did things that would benefit him. He never gave anyone a second chance; in fact, he sometimes didn't give people a first chance. He had made it his profession to hurt people, mainly by kidnapping their children and asking for exuberant ransoms. Even when the ransom was paid, Peter Pan didn't always return the children to their parents. One of only things authorities knew for sure was that he worked with an accomplice widely known as "The Shadow". Peter Pan was an awful excuse for a human being.

One morning Wendy said goodbye to her parents like every other Saturday morning and began her two-minute walk to her friend, Lily's, house. And just like any other Saturday morning, when she got to Lily's they went to the park with Prince, Lily's dog.

They played with Prince for about an hour before it happened. They had been throwing around a ball, and one time Wendy threw it too far, into the bush. Prince ran into the foliage in pursuit of his toy, but never came back out. After a bit, Wendy told Lily she would go look for the dog, so off she went. Lily stayed where she was incase her dog came back. Wendy wandered into the bush calling out Prince's name, but with no avail. She was just about to go back to her friend when she heard a branch crack behind her. She turned hesitantly, and called out the dog's name. A tall man dressed in black came into view and strides towards her. She was about to ask him if he was lost, when he hit her hard across the face, hard enough to knock her out.

When Wendy woke up she found herself in a poorly lit room. Her wrists were shackled above her head to the wall behind her. The floor was dirty, hard and cold, the ceiling wasn't visible. As she took in her surroundings, she noticed she wasn't alone in the room. There were two other boys, chained to the wall in the same manner that she was. It wasn't until she recognized the two boys, did she truly begin to panic. She remembered them from the paper; their names were Michael and John. They were two of the un-returned children that Peter Pan had kidnapped. Both families had paid the ransoms, but their little boys hadn't been returned to them. It was like some sort of sick game. She started to sob when she realized what that meant; Peter Pan had taken her.

Mrs. Darling wept as her husband tried in vain to console her. Peter Pan had taken their little girl. He was asking for a huge amount of money for her return, and the Darling's could just barely afford it, if they sold their house. Two weeks later, the money was delivered to the drop spot. The money was accepted, but it seemed as if the Darling's luck had finally run out, they never saw Wendy again.

* * *

"Now I'b sad. Tell me a lobe story."

Sherlock sighed.

"Pleeeeeeeeease?"


	5. Welcome To Hell

**A/N: We own nothing.**

**So this was supposed to be a variation of The Frog Prince, but... yah, it didn't work out all that well. Depending on how you look at the plot it could be similar to that of the Frog Prince's. It's kinda vague though.**

**Anyways, that's our shpeal for the day, hope you enjoy the story! :)**

**-Dante Pierre**

* * *

Once upon a time there was a gang leader. A badass gang leader. His gang was known as the Red Gang, their biggest rival known as Gang X. Both gangs dealt in drugs, robbed houses and did all the other things you would normally associate with gangs, but there was one main difference between the two gangs. Their leaders. The Red Gang's leader was not what you would expect. He didn't like killing people unless there was no other option and he usually was forgiving and relatively kind. Gang X's leader was a completely different story. He was ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He would stop at nothing to achieve his goals and he despised the Red Gang's leader. He saw him as weak and naive. Yet time and time again, the Red Gang's leader proved to be superior to Gang X's leader.

The feud between the two gangs had started long before their respective leaders came into power. Nowadays, it was an unspoken rule that the Red Gang stayed on the west side of the city and Gang X stayed on the east side of the city. This originated from a fight the two gangs had had. One could even call it a mini-war. Eventually, the two gangs agreed on a truce, seeing as the fighting wasn't about to end, and they split up the city equally, using Main Street as a border.

One typically boring day, the leader of the Red Gang was doing his usual business with their best client, when he decided he needed a cup of coffee. Not the shitty stuff that his gang made out of the cheap crap, but a real coffee made from quality coffee beans. He wrapped up his deal and headed off to the nearest Starbucks. A pretty blond girl with green eyes served him. As you would expect, she caught his eye and he started to fall in love with her. He came back the next day for some more coffee (or so he said) and then the next and the next and on and on until he had been going to that Starbucks everyday for two whole months. The girl and him started to bond, and finally he asked her out. She said yes. They had been going steady for three months before she finally found out who he really was.

He had never told her he was the Red Gang's leader, in fear of scaring her away, but one night, when he was unfortunately drunk, he told her the truth. She was so appalled by the fact that she had been dating a gang leader that she left him immediately, even in his drunken state. She quit her job at Starbucks, started working at a grocery store and moved back in with her mother. Nevertheless, our badass gang leader found his love and begged her to take him back. He told her to give him a chance, that he really wasn't as bad as he seemed. After much pleading from her ex-boyfriend, she finally gave in. He took her to his gang's home base and introduced her to everyone. She found that he really wasn't as bad she thought he was; in fact, he was quite a respectable man. He treated his underlings well and actually acted more like a protector of the city compared to the leader of Gang X. She took him back happily and he asked her to marry him. She said yes. They were married the next day and she became an honorary gang member. Their bliss lasted for six days. The leader of Gang X found out about her and had her shot in the head as an act of war. Needles to say, the leader of the Red Gang retaliated and soon the whole city was in ruins. A war erupted between the two gangs once again, and the leader of the Red Gang fought for the murder of his love. He got revenge in the end, but he lost many friends in the process. He found in the end that he had nothing left to live for and slit his wrists. He was a gang leader and he committed suicide, and therefore he went to Hell for eternity. The love of his life was pure and innocent, so she went to Heaven. They were separated for the rest of time and they never saw each other again.

* * *

"That wasn't a lobe story. That was saddenig. Orribly saddenig."

"It was a love story. They fell in love and got married. How much more of a love story can you get?"

"They died. Ad neber saw each other again. Ad you don't even beliebe in Eaban and Ell." John protested.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You want me to tell you another story."

"Yeah. Not a lobe story. Your lobe stories are awful."

* * *

**A/N: Whispers in a demonic voice:**_** Hansel & Gretel is next!**_


	6. Hansel And Gretel, The Assassins

**A/N: We own nothing.**

**As we said earlier, a request was made asking for an adaptation of the story of Hansel & Gretel. **

**"Can you do Hansel and Gretel next please? Like pretty please with Benedict on top?" ****How could we say no to a request like that? ;) ****So here it is. ****Hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Big thanks to those who have taken our erm-_polite_ requests (pleads) to heart and reviewed. We love you! ****So please, do us a a huge, huge favour and keep reviewing!**

**On to the slightly morbid and teeniest-bit gruesome story! :D**

**-Dante Pierre**

* * *

Once upon a time there lived a married couple with two beautiful children. Hansel and Gretel were the center of their parents' joy. Unfortunately, times got rough and the couple was forced to abandon their children and flee the country. Hansel, being the older of the two, felt that it was his responsibility to take care of his little sister. He learned how to pickpocket and was able to get a little money every now and then to buy some scraps of food to sustain them. Gretel, being old enough to understand that her brother loved her more than anything even though she was a burden to him, soon realized that she had to help him. It wasn't fair for him to everything; they had to work together to survive on the streets. And so Hansel taught her everything he knew, as little knowledge as that was. They began working as a team, liberating small portions of money from unaware people. They brought in enough to get themselves at least one good meal a day, a big improvement on what meager provisions Hansel was able to provide by himself. The two lived relatively happily on the street for the next year or so, never leaving each other's sides no matter how tough the going got.

One practically awful day, Hansel and Gretel found themselves sitting, huddled, in a dark alley with only a small piece of bread to share. The whole week had been rather unlucky for the two, as the pickings had been sparse. They were starving. As Gretel was about to break the bread into two, something ploughed into her and ripped the bread from her hands. A six-year-old boy, who was skinny as a skeleton and deathly pale had been eyeing that piece of bread for the whole evening, hidden in the shadows. Unfortunately, he had chosen the wrong people to steal from. He ran as fast as he could, but the starving and now angered siblings ran faster. In moments they had caught up with him and had tackled him to the ground and started beating him. Fury dominated both Hansel and Gretel. How could this stupid boy take their food away from them?! They had every right to that bread and he had none. They were so angered, that they didn't notice that they had gone to far until the boy's life was beaten out of him. Gretel sat back on their heels, feeling the shame for what they had done. A little boy. Starving and homeless, much like them. They hadn't even known his name, yet they beat him to death over a piece of bread. A small, insignificant piece of bread. Tears started to cloud her vision, but Hansel told her what they had done was for the best. Life was unfair, and sometimes unpleasant things had to be done to survive. The boy was in a better place anyways. Comforted by his words, she felt all guilt leave her and they ate their bread on the cold street next to the dead boy's corpse. Once they had finished, they carried his body to the nearest bridge and dumped him into the river. That night they changed, no longer scared children, but confident children that knew they had what it took to survive.

The next two years went by much more comfortably for them. They felt no remorse in killing and kill they did. They murdered other beggars for the few things they could call their own. They stole from the few friends they had made on the streets. Reports of bodies flowing down the river became more and more common and the cases began to pile up, but nobody bothered Hansel and Gretel. In the world of the homeless, the siblings were at the top of the food chain. They were undefeated, taking and killing as they wished. One day, it wasn't enough for them, and they set their sights on bigger prey, on one man in particular, but they unfortunately didn't know that he was a black belt in Karate.

Everything was planned down to the last detail. Hansel and Gretel knew exactly what to do and who would do it. It was early in the morning; the man had recently taken to morning jogs before everyone else came out of their houses. He took the same route every-time. On the signal Gretel began to advance from behind. It was her job to take the man by surprise, distract him for a moment so that Hansel could jump out of a pre-planned hiding spot and kill their victim. It was an extremely successful and efficient process. Gretel bumped into the man, and was about to mutter an apology when a fist struck her in the side of the head. The man was smart and he knew something was up. Immediately Gretel fought back and Hansel jumped out from behind a bush armed with a knife. The man ducked and blocked their attacks with ease and within seconds had disarmed Hansel. It was obvious that they were about to be defeated, and as they turned to retreat, the man caught Gretel and pushed the knife up against her throat. Gretel could do nothing to escape him without getting her throat slit. The man smiled a horrible smile and Hansel found himself feeling fear for the first time in years. The man was impressed by their skill, as nobody ever lasted more than two seconds when facing him. He told them that he could, and should, kill them both right there and then, riding the world of their filthy existence. But in the end, he offered them a job. There was a lady that had a pendant that he sorely needed, unfortunately, he was also related to her, so he couldn't off her himself. The police would be onto him immediately. He told them that if they successfully executed the task, he would forget that they ever attempted to harm him and even pay them for their troubles. Fearing death, the siblings readily agreed. The man smiled his creepy smile once more, released Gretel and introduced himself as Mr. David Robert Jones. And so began the sibling's first ever job.

They went to the house they were briefed on, in the middle of the night, and broke in with ease. Silently, clad in black, Hansel and Gretel made their way down the hallway and towards a set of stairs that supposedly led to the woman's room. Along the way they passed what they guess to be her kitchen. It had sweets littered all other the counters and empty wrappers piled up high in what must've been her trash bin. Chocolates, cookies, mints, toffees, you may it; you would most like find it somewhere in the cupboards lining her kitchen walls. As you could guess, the woman had quite the sweet tooth. Moving along, the siblings made their way up the stairs and down another, but much shorter, hallway. They crept up towards the door and ever so slowly opened the door, hoping not to wake her. Moved silently into the room, and slowly so not to trip on anything, the moonlight from the one window in the room illuminating the figure in the bed. That's when Gretel noticed something about their target; she was nothing more than a small, frail looking old woman. Still a job was a job, and Gretel kept moving ready to do her part. Once Hansel was in position, Gretel quickly clamped a hand over the woman's mouth and Hansel sliced the old lady's throat. The woman's eyes flew open, her surprise evident. She made a few gurgling noises and flailed around as she choked on her own blood and attempted to free herself. Fortunately for her, she lasted only a few seconds before she died. Her eyes glossed over, losing their wild alertness. She moved no more. There on her chest lay the pendant. Gretel removed it from her bloody neck, careful not to look at the woman's eyes. The eyes of the dead had always sent shivers down her spine. Once the pendant was safely removed and stored away, Hansel gathered the old woman's lifeless body in his arms and the two of them made their way down the stairs once more. They entered her kitchen and Hansel walked over to the large oven that sat along the wall furthest from the door. Gretel waited at the threshold of the kitchen. Hansel opened the oven door and neatly tucked the lady's small body inside. He closed the door and set the heat up to the highest setting. They left the house without another glance back, the old woman's face already fading from their memory. Little did they know that that was the first job out of the hundreds that they would do over the course of their lives. And so were born Hansel and Gretel, the assassins.

* * *

"The End. Satisfactory?"

"They were kids! Not eben adults!"

"So?"

"So?!"

"Life is unfair. Things happen." Sherlock stated plainly. John shook his head in disbelief.

"I'b not going to argue with you."

"Good."

"But I'b still not tired."

"Johhhnnnn..."

"Another story. Please?" Sherlock took one glance at the adorable look on John's face and gave in.

"Fine." John smiled.


	7. Little Girls

**A/N: So here's the Bluebeard story as requested, we're seeing what we can do with Rumpelstiltskin, so sit tight.**

**We own nothing.**

**-Dante Pierre**

* * *

Once upon a time there lived a lovely woman named Jeanette. Jeanette was your typical mix of blonde hair and blue eyes, but make no mistake, her life was anything but typical. You see, Jeanette worked for a pharmaceutical company, in a secret lab. Her employer, a shady man named Gordon, adored her. She got unlimited amounts of money to spend on her research projects and was always given the benefit of the doubt. Jeanette was an honest woman, so she never abused the power she held.

One day, Gordon informed her that he had to leave on a business trip for six days. He gave her the keys to the whole lab and told her she was in charge. He explained all the protocols to her, although she already knew them cold, and gave her a number to call if she had any trouble. Just before he left, he told her that the smallest key he had given her unlocked the door to his most recent experiment, but she was not to open that door under any circumstances. No one was to be allowed into that room. Jeanette promised she wouldn't open the door and bid her boss goodbye. As soon as Gordon had left the premises, Jeanette got back to work. The day passed by quickly and soon it was time for her to lock up. As she was leaving she spotted the door to Gordon's experiment. Her curiosity started to grow, but she didn't break her promise. The next day was like torture for her. She wanted to know what Gordon had been working on so bad that she couldn't focus on a single thing other than what could possibly be behind that door. But since she was an honest, hard working employee, she kept her promise and stayed out of the room. By the fourth day it was simply too much.

After everyone else had left the lab, Jeanette walked up the the door. She fitted the small key into the lock and turned. Practically shaking with anticipation, she pushed open the door. It was just like every other room, there was nothing special about it, except for the one thing. In the corner of the room, there was a cage. Slowly, she walked up to it and peered between the bars. There lay a small child, covered in bruises and cuts that stood out in contrast to her sickly pale skin. Jeanette gasped in horror, how could Gordon do this to a child? She looked around frantically, trying to find a way to open the cage, when she found a small keyhole, matching the one on the door. She took out the small key and fitted it in. The door swung open and she rushed to the child's side. Carefully she turned her over and slowly, the child opened her eyes. They were like nothing Jeanette had ever seen. The girls eyes were deep purple, her pupils slits, not unlike a cat's. The child smirked and showed off her sharp fangs. Jeanette didn't even have a chance to scream. The girl ripped her throat out and then proceeded to eat her, tearing into her flesh like she hadn't eaten for weeks, which she hadn't. When there was not a single scrap of Jeanette left, except her torn, bloodied clothes, the child took the keys and made her way out of the lab and into the city.

By the time the word of Jeanette's death reached Gordon's ears, it was too late. The child had killed half of the city, this time leaving bodies littered everywhere filled with eggs. The girl was unstoppable, no bullets could pierce her skin. The authorities acted too slowly and soon the eggs had hatched and the city was swarming with hungry little girls with fangs and purple cat eyes. In ten years, two thirds of the worlds population was dead. It only took another six months before there wasn't a single living human on the face of the Earth. Wildlife took over. The plants dominated the cities, slowly but surely. The little girls turned on each other, and soon they died out too. Animals ruled the Earth. It took another century before all signs that there had ever been human life on the Earth were destroyed.

* * *

"The end."

"Tell be another one."

"No." Sherlock said as he moved to get up. His way out of the room was blocked by a cheery-faced idiot. Molly Hooper.

"Hello boys! John, I heard you were feeling under the weather."

"Molly. Yes, I'b feeling sick, but Sherlock was just about to tell be a story. Would you care to join?" John asked innocently, ignoring Sherlock's mumbled protests.

"A story? I love stories!" Molly exclaimed. She walked over the foot of John's bed and sat down, careful as to be far enough from the sick man as she possibly could.

Sherlock sighed in defeat as two almost identical sets of puppy eyes stared at him expectantly and moved back to his chair. He sat down and began yet another story.

"Once upon a time..."


End file.
